


Joy, Despite Everything.

by infinitestarsintheskye



Series: FitzSimmons Normal People AU [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mentions of Anxiety, mention of therapy/counselling, mentions of anxiety/depression medication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28757118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitestarsintheskye/pseuds/infinitestarsintheskye
Summary: It’s been five years since Fitz left for New York. Life is good.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: FitzSimmons Normal People AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108307
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	Joy, Despite Everything.

**Author's Note:**

> I never said never. This has been toying at the back of my mind, honestly since I finished Other People. I always had an image in my mind of where Fitz would end up and where Jemma would end up. I found myself missing this world recently and that’s kind of where this came from, missing it and a want to just escape into this world again. You don’t necessarily need to have read Other People to enjoy this, but it is helpful. Apparently I just couldn’t let this world go, not quite yet. Anyway, I will stop rambling and let you enjoy this. I look forward to you all shouting at me.

Fitz dragged his hand down his face. He’d been staring at the screen for too long, he knew it. He was tired. His eyes ached and his brain felt numb. Giving in, he knew he wouldn’t get any work done now, Fitz leaned forward and switched off his computer. He needed a break, he knew. Sometimes, if he was lucky, the solution to the problem he’d been working on would come to him, appear suddenly in his mind when he least expected it. If he let himself be idle, rest, it may come to him. It was dark out, or as dark as it can be when the rest of the city lights glared in through the large window of his office. His mum always worried when he said he’d gone home after dark. New York was a scary place she’d always said. And Fitz would admit, in the five years he’d been living there, he hadn’t felt entirely safe one hundred percent of the time, but still. He liked it here. The first year, his internship with Stark, doing his masters at NYU, had been the most terrifying year of his life. But he’d made friends with one of his colleagues, Mack, had remembered to speak up in his classes, took his medication, and everything fell into place. He was Dr Fitz now. Stark had been good to his word and paid him through his PhD and supported him through paid internships and had offered him this dream of a job upon graduating. And he enjoyed it. 

The door to his workspace shut with a soft click. The lights went off automatically, the door locking securely behind him. This was Stark Industries, so everything worked with bells and whistles. His office door unlocked with his fingerprints, his computer activated by his voice. Some of it, Fitz admitted, though he would never say it out loud, was a bit excessive, but he knew he enjoyed it. 

He walked home. It would take him a while, but he liked it, gave him time to think. He thought of home. He missed Glasgow like an ache sometimes. The people, the familiarity of it all. New York had become familiar to him, but it had taken time. It was a different kind of familiarity. His therapist said that was okay, to miss the familiar, to miss what we knew. Fitz was aware he wasn’t very good with change. Jemma had changed that about him slightly. Made him more open. He was glad for it. Fitz couldn’t list the many ways in which Jemma had changed him. Not intentionally, she had not set out to do so, but just in knowing her, in loving her. It overwhelmed him sometimes, the extent to which one person could change another, how the existence of one single person had changed his life so much. It was incredible really. But he could not be more grateful for it. He was here. For the first time in his life Fitz felt content. His work stressed him out sometimes, like it had that evening, he still felt anxiety creep into the corners of his brain sometimes, but he knew how to cope with it now. It was manageable. And he was proud of himself. Proud that he could manage, that he knew he didn’t have to do it all alone. He smiled as this thought came to him, tucking his jacket around him a bit tighter. The air was starting to nip here. It would snow soon. Fitz didn’t mind the snow. It made the world quieter, and sometimes, especially in a city like this, that wasn’t a bad thing. 

Fitz put his keys in the bowl by the door. It was a good, if not cliche system. He knew however, that without it, he would be lost. He padded to the fridge in his socks, and pulled out a beer. If he remembered correctly, there was a channel playing some Scottish Premiership matches tonight. Hopefully he might catch the end of it. Sticking some bread in the toaster, Fitz took a swig of his beer and leaned against the counter. It was a nice little place. More expensive than it ought to be, but this was New York and Stark paid him far too well. He walked to the couch with a piece of toast in his mouth, the rest on a plate, and his beer swinging in his other hand. Flicking through the channels, he found the match he’d been looking for, and allowed his brain to turn off. It had taken him a while to figure out how to do that, and it was still difficult sometimes. Thoughts swirling in his head, round and around, stopping him from sleeping, from thinking rationally. But he knew how to manage them now. He knew what helped. There, his therapist had been endlessly helpful. It had been one of the first things he’d done when he’d arrived, find a good therapist. He knew he’d need that support, recognised it. That, she said during their first meeting, was a big step all on its own. The match went to overtime, and then penalties, neither team giving in easily. Eventually someone scored, and Fitz took that as his time to go to bed. His plate in the dishwasher, his beer bottle in the recycling, he padded to the bedroom, his hands reaching automatically for his pyjamas from the end of the bed. Sleep came easily that night, he’d been working too hard and tired himself out. Still, he wasn’t very good at recognising his limits there, but he was trying. This project had just gotten the better of him. Better now to put it out of his mind for the weekend, take a break and enjoy his time off. 

It took Fitz a while to wake up the next morning. He hadn’t set an alarm, not that he’d ever been fond of that, and just let himself wake up naturally. It had been a good, dreamless sleep. As he came to, he registered the soft weight around his middle and the familiar soft, clean smell that wafted up to his nostrils. Carefully, Fitz rolled over and pulled her closer, her head tucking into the crook of his neck. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, and felt her shift slightly in his arms, awakening. 

“Good morning.” He smiled softly. 

“Morning.” She mumbled into his chest. 

“Didn’t even hear you come in last night.” 

“You were dead to the world that’s why. Got in about half twelve. Daisy wanted to stay out longer, you know what she’s like.” 

Fitz chuckled softly. 

“I said we’d meet her for lunch today. That was about when she started saying we were like an old married couple before our time. What time is it anyway?”

He craned his neck up to look at the clock on the bedside table. 

“Just gone quarter past nine. Plenty time.”

“Plenty of time for what?” She asked, crooking her eyebrow at him. 

Fitz just smiled, leaning in and kissing her softly. He trailed his lips gently across her jaw, and down her neck, pausing to suck at her clavicle, before continuing his journey down. He gently tugged her t-shirt over her head, his lips wrapping around her nipple. Softly, she leaned into his touch, her fingers carding through his curls. Fitz continued to work his way down her body, kissing every patch of skin he could find softly, carefully. He made short work of her pyjama trousers, her underwear being lost with them, his lips teasing over the insides of her thighs. The sound she made as his lips finally made contact with her folds was otherworldly. Like all of his work, Fitz was meticulous, taking her apart slowly, enjoying every soft gasp that uttered from her mouth, as she tugged gently at his curls, urging him closer. 

“Fitz.” She gasped, pulling him up towards her. 

She caught him in a long, languid kiss, her hands fisting the bottom of his shirt, before pulling it over his head. Fitz loved it when they went slowly like this, as if they had all the time in the world. But he knew that he had riled her up, and it was not long before his own pyjama bottoms were being shoved down, her hand pumping slowly up and down his cock. Fitz took in a sharp breath, closing his eyes, allowing the pleasure to wash over him. Hooking her leg over his waist, she slowly guided him into her. Fitz groaned into her shoulder as their hips met, pleasure coursing through his veins. His entire body was telling him to move, to pound into her, but this was not the time for that. He wanted to go slow, enjoy it. She pressed still somewhat sleepy kisses to his shoulder as he rocked into her. She came first, her walls clenching around him, triggering his own release. 

“Jemma.” Fitz breathed when he was finally able to. 

She smiled up at him, her warm brown eyes meeting his own, before she leaned up and started pressing gentle kisses along his jaw. 

Jemma. She’d moved here a year and a half ago now. Fitz had mentioned her to Stark and once she’d finished her PhD, he’d made her an offer that she could not turn down. It hadn’t really been a discussion, but Jemma had stayed with him when she first came over, and here she still was. She was his girlfriend now, good and proper. They never lost contact the years they’d been apart. When Fitz went home for Christmas, he always carved out time for her. When she came over, it was like picking up where they had left off. It was easy, effortless, the way that Jemma had slotted into his life again. Still, he knew that the time apart had done them both good. He knew who he was now, what he wanted, and Jemma, he knew, felt the same. They talked more, were more open with each other. It was good, they were good. 

Fitz pressed another soft kiss to her head, holding her close. He was still inside her, but he didn’t want to break that connection, not yet. 

“Love you.” He mumbled into her hair. 

“Love you too.” Jemma said, her lips still grazing his skin. 

They dozed for a while, holding one another, tracing lazy patterns on the others skin. After everything that had happened over the years, Fitz thought, they deserved this. This happiness with one another. They found joy in each other. It was as plain as that, as easy. Mistakes of the past were not forgotten, but embraced, as a part of the journey that had brought them here. Fitz knew he shouldn’t dwell on things he couldn’t change. The past was the past, there was no changing it. But he could learn from it, do things differently. No matter what had happened, Fitz could not deny that it was what had brought him here, to this very moment, holding Jemma Simmons in his arms, loving her and she him, and that, that he knew he could not regret a single second of.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. All of your support for this AU has honestly meant the world to me. Thank you.
> 
> Skye :)


End file.
